


The Dark Places of the Mind

by CaveFelem



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Dark, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Elder Scrolls Online Main Quest, F/M, Power Imbalance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 06:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveFelem/pseuds/CaveFelem
Summary: The Vestige's shameful secret is also her weakness. For better or worse, Abnur Tharn knows it.Contains main quest spoilers."When thou enterest into Oblivion, Oblivion entereth into thee."





	The Dark Places of the Mind

Abnur Tharn was waiting for Arianne in the rough-hewn Harborage passage tunnel.

"So, Vestige. Have you decided yet who will accompany you on this most important mission to rescue Sai Sahan?"

"No. I need to get my armour repaired. Besides, I've not even talked to Lyris yet."

"Titanborn?" Tharn scoffed. "Don't waste your time. There's only one real choice, and we both know it."

She wanted to say something scathing and leave, or at the very least told herself she did, but something about his tone stalled her. 

"You will need me in Coldharbour." Tharn fixed her with a sharp look, a silent challenge, one she couldn't evade without feeling like she'd lost a battle before it had even begun.

"Why? I mean, why you specifically?"

"Aside from the fact that your other choice of companion is a witless half-giant? If that is not reason enough, then consider this. The modus operandi of the Daedra in the Halls of Torment is to reach deep into the dark places of the mind. They whittle away your resistance and sanity with apparitions of the things you most dread. Oh, don't flatter yourself by thinking they wouldn't be able to see through you," he continued before she could say anything, "it's so very easy. Behold."

An eerie blue glow blossomed on Tharn's upheld palm. Arianne watched it spread, crawl up his fingers joint by joint, engulf the entire hand and form a shimmering overlay in an inhuman shape, all sharp and wrong. He moved in, reached out towards her. She closed her eyes before the phantom claws could touch her face – no, it was not her face they were going for, no, lower, under her jaw, dragging over her skin down the side of her neck and all the way to the neckline of her shirt. She didn't flinch from it. She would endure, prove to them both that she was above being shaken by such things.

"Yes, I know how you loathe Coldharbour, the cruelty, the oppression, the countless horrors. Who wouldn't? It isn't exactly a holiday destination. And so you loathe your very self all the more, because despite all your protestations, your body sings like a lute at the touch of metal, at the sight of a shackle."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The lie was cold in her stomach and foul on her tongue.

"Please. Don't bother. Trust me on this, Vestige, if nothing else: I am the only one in this mismatched little band of would-be saviours who can even begin to understand. Lyris is too dull to comprehend all but the most basic natures of lust, and he whom you knew as the Prophet has long since gone beyond both desire and ability. I, however... I'm no stranger to either side of the equation at hand."

His breath brushed her cheek. The invisible claws pressed harder. And then came the eerie, metallic, unnatural voice, like two skeins of sound twined into one, and terror lightning-bolted down her spine before she realised it was not a creature of Oblivion, but only Tharn and illusion magic.

"Even as you spill the unholy blood of the Dremora, you would just as soon pleasure yourself naked in a viscous pool of creatia while they watch, aroused by the sight. Or perhaps you would rather that they amuse themselves with you. How many, I wonder, could you accommodate at once? Or one after another? How much Xivilai flesh with its girth and ridges? Would you bleed, and would you still beg for more regardless?"

She tried to shake her head and say how much she abhorred such ideas, but the clawed hand had moved down to her breast and held it firmly. That and the words kept her pinned like a butterfly.

"They will know this, will draw it forth from you as easily as I'm doing now. They will use it against you, weaken you, and then strike. That's why you need someone who can shield you from mental attacks. Someone who knows the crucial importance of that shield."

"Lyris –"

"Cannot do it. That should be obvious. And even if she did... Would you reveal this to her and watch her recoil in disgust? Before even getting to the good part? Your deepest, darkest fear."

She knew, then, with horror, could tell from the way he had drawn out the last words, that in some damnable way he'd figured her out.

"Don't. Please."

"Don't what?" Oh, how he was relishing this, when her eyes flickered open for a moment she could even see a small wry smile on his lips, and then he changed his voice again and plunged her into utter darkness.

"You fear facing the God of Schemes more than death, more than anything. But not because he's gearing up to destroy our world, oh no." She couldn't shut the voice out; it echoed deep in her bones like a drumbeat. "It's for a far more selfish reason that our precious hero hates and fears him."

She didn't need to open her eyes again. She knew by the size and shape of the body pressed against her, by the too-fancy Imperial belt buckle nearly hurting her and by the very human thigh invading the space between hers, that the voice was mere illusion. Yet... she could smell and taste metal and sulphur, fire, molten stone, and by the Divines, it burned inside her, and she _wanted_.

"It's because," the voice was relentless, "you fear you would fall on your knees before him and beg for your own defilement."

"Stop. _Stop!_ "

"Of course." The voice was all Tharn now. " _I_ have no intention to break your will. What would be the advantage in that? I need you alive and doing the dirty work." 

He pulled back and chuckled, low and pleased. 

"It's very hot in here, don't you think? Hot and humid. Need I mention that I can help you with that as well? You'll sleep easier, have less distracting nightmares. As for me, I will be spared the hassle and expense of dealing with professionals. Not all of them appreciate the fine art of mixing a bit of pain with your pleasure, served with a side dish of submission to your betters."

"Shut up, Tharn." Arianne had finally got a measure of her resolve back. "You've made your point. I will consider it. The shielding, that is."

"Very well." He made like he was about to go, leaving her alone with the conflict raging inside her. "Shall I inform the others that you'll be wanting some time for yourself?"

"Dagon's foul backside!" she swore, span around and marched down the tunnel, red only partially from rage.


End file.
